I Will Live On
by Universe
Summary: Another viginette: Piccolo's take on Doramu's birth.


**I Will Live On**

  
  
  


An arm shakes me awake. Whatever dreams I'm having fade. Still I smile, something amazing is going to happen today. I'm going to create life on the same day I began mine many years ago. Isn't it ironic that I'm giving birth on the last birthday I'll ever experience? 

I never imagined how it would feel to have new life inside me. Even if it is nearly choking off my windpipe and won't let me fully swallow. My child is moving! I can feel his motion! 

Gohan looks scared out his wits. But I reassure him. Really, I'm okay. I may not know what I'm doing here. My body does. I can feel these odd...call them contractions...pulsing up my throat. The pain travels down my shoulders and up to my skull. My jawbones don't feel as tight as last night. They're loose and soft like thick rubber. 

I am "in labor". 

"When will the egg hatch?" Gohan asks me. 

"Almost as soon as I cough it up, which is right about now." I struggle out of bed. I'm halfway out of the room when I realize he'll follow me. "Gohan, this isn't going to be a pretty sight, and it's going to be over very quickly. Do yourself a favor...let me do this alone." 

This is a difficult time for me. I don't know what I might do, what instinct might make me do, if I remain here. So I strike out into the forest alone. Surrounded by life. 

Another painful tightening in my throat. I pause and grip a tree. The spasm almost knocks me off my feet. I stumble onward until Gohan's house is out of sight. Good, nobody followed, I can pick a place to give birth in peace. 

My eyes fall upon a large clearing with sunbeams blasting between the leaves. There is plenty of cover here, lots of room and clean water to drink. Nobody will come stumbling across me. I don't think any predatory animals live around here. Even if they do, they won't come near me or my child. 

This place is beautiful. So lush and green, sparkling with dew. Had Gohan and ChiChi not taken me in, I would've spent my last days right here, and let myself die while sitting up against a tree. Nobody would bother me. 

Perhaps my new son will play here when he's old enough. 

I can't go any further. That large tree over there will have to do. 

Stronger contractions in my throat. I can't get comfortable unless I tilt my head up and straighten my gullet. I feel like I'm about to burp or vomit. Slick liquid collects in the back of my throat. I swallow it. Swallowing forces the egg higher. My jawbones are fully unhinged now and I detect the hard egg with my soft palate. I'm gaping in a silent scream. I can feel movement as my jawbones work independently of each other to "walk" the egg forward. This is the sole reason why I have fangs, for giving birth. They grip the hard eggshell and pull it forward. None of this is voluntary, I have surrendered fully to my body. It's like throwing up a watermelon in slow motion. I cannot breathe. I'm getting woozy. 

Suddenly I start to vomit for real. Doubling forward, I let the egg drop out into my arms. And my stomach expels the slime in bucketfuls. 

Air, glorious air. With jaws hanging agape I take in huge gasps. Senses return to me. Something warm and hard rests in my arms. My egg. 

Will my son know me when he's born? Will...will I know how to care for him? My life is about to change forever, and later on - end too soon. I won't be here for him. How can I be sure he knows who I was when I'm gone? 

I force my mouth shut despite the pain it causes me, my eyes fixed on the tiny egg in my arms. Like I told Gohan before, I give the child inside no knowledge of my past. But I do give him enough knowledge to defend himself in a fight. Gohan can teach him the rest, just as I taught him when he was a child. His personality will be formed by his own experiences, not by the tainted memories of a sire long since dead. 

Time stands still. The eggshell turns from gray to white. Now fully dry, I hear small crackling noises. Excitement races through me. I look on with feelings of trepidation and...hope. 

What if he can't get out? I can hear movement but nothing is happening. Wait, a crack on top! Look at that! 

I watch the single crack splay out until the entire white surface looks like parched dirt. My heart beats faster in my chest, but I resist the urge to help my son escape his prison. His first real struggle in life, and hopefully the only difficult one. 

And then it happens. The weakened eggshell just falls away from his tiny body, and I can see my son for the first time. 

He looks dead. So gaunt and tiny...he fits perfectly in my two large hands. Through the slime covering his body, I study him. The child is a mirror image of me, or will be when he's grown. His eyelids bulge against their closed lids and his antennae are two shriveled stubs imbedded in his forehead. Lack of oxygen paints him strange colors. Ashen in some places, with the ridged muscles on his arms and legs colored almost white. Other parts are purple. He doesn't look Namekian at all. 

_Breathe, you have to breathe!_ I demand. For several seconds, nothing happens. I don't understand this panic overtaking me. 

Then I see his tiny jaw twitch. Yawn open. His chest rises for the first time. I actually hear the breath rushing in and out. Then his face flushes and he releases his first cry. A weak, tiny cry, but the next is stronger. He is testing his voice, his lungs and then his arms and legs. For the first time, he moves against my large hands. Like magic I watch new, healthy color flood his skin and his antennae lengthen to their proper shape. 

I feel something different in my chest. My heart is swollen and my throat aches in a weird way. I will do anything to protect this life. I will move Heaven, Hell and everything in between if it means he can live. 

And live he will. 

How can another being have such tiny, perfect hands? Curiously, I lower my finger down to one clenched fist. The miniature fingers open up and re-curl around my fingertip, which covers his entire palm. Such tiny, sharp white nails. 

Suddenly his eyes open, our gazes locking for the first time. The dark orbs are the same color as mine. They gaze at me with such love and trust. I stare down into my newborn child's eyes and feel as if all my past sins have been forgiven. Through him, I regained the innocence I never had. He will have everything I never did. He'll live a life filled with love and friendship, not loneliness and pain. No, his life will be so much better than mine. 

But I won't be part of it. 

The pain in my throat overflows into my eyes. I have created life...I'm happy. I've never been happy. Why do I feel like crying? I feel my lips quivering. Hot wetness blazes down my cheeks. 

I'm a dad. A father. A papa. Someone's parent. 

"My son..." I take my child in both hands and press my lips to his slimy brow, welcoming him into my life. He is my hope for the future. _Doramu_ means hope in my language...that is his name. My legacy. "I name you Doramu...my son." I can barely speak except to say the same awed words over and over, "...my son..." 

I heard somewhere that people see their whole lives flash before their eyes just before they die. Let's hope this moment will linger the longest before my spirit makes its final journey. If there is a final journey to be made. If not, then let me live this moment over and over for eternity. 

A twig snaps to my left. I pull Doramu close and jerk my head at the sound. Nothing else happens. I return my attention to the baby. His crying has ceased and now he gazes about in wonder. Unlike human children, a newborn Namek can see clearly as soon as their eyes open. 

Doramu needs to be cleaned before he catches a chill. The gentle waterfall feeding the stream looks good. I lay Doramu on a patch of soft moss and disrobe myself. Leaving my clothes in a pile, I lift the tiny newborn carefully and walk towards the water, which glimmers brightly in the brilliant sunbeam shining down. As if the sun itself wants to welcome the life I created. An angel born from a reformed demon. 

Kneeling down under the waterfall, I hold Doramu in the stream that rushes over my body. The full brunt would be too traumatic. His bare skin feels warmer, softer, than mine. Untainted by hardship, pain and battle. Holding him face-up first and then turning him over to wash his back, I use utmost gentleness when I rub my fingers over his body to help the water clean him. Doramu squirms against my touch. That swollen feeling returns to my chest. Each time I see him move, I want to cry. 

I'd be humiliated if someone else saw me like this. With all my emotions laid out on the surface. 

Pretty soon the slime covering Doramu's skin is all washed away. I hold my hand under the waterfall and touch my fingertip to his lips. He slurps the droplets hungrily from my fingertip. Then he smacks his lips to ask for more. I gladly give him what he wants. And I can't help but smile at the little guy, he's so precious. He's only been alive for fifteen minutes and...I _love_ him. 

Is this really love? That disgusting emotion humans talk about? 

Doramu seems to be getting cold now. I finish washing him off, rinse myself one last time and slip back onto the grass. A ki wave dries us both instantly. 

No, I don't want to get dressed yet. Instead I seat myself in the lotus position and place Doramu on the same patch of moss I did before. There, I lean over to check him out more fully. Two twitching antennae as thin and delicate as plant-stems. Ten perfect, wiggly fingers and toes. His feet are only as long as the tip of my thumb! So small! I just...can't believe he came from me. 

My son watches me with as much curiosity as I'm watching him. We are both looking in a mirror - him, at his future self, and me, at my past self. Or what should have been. What could have been. 

"Doramu..." 

He looks at me. He already knows my voice and my ki. 

"Heh, look at you. So much to experience and learn. So much I won't see you do." 

I lower my finger to his tiny hand. Just like before, he grasps it and squeezes tight. I wiggle my finger and he only holds on tighter. Those huge, innocent onyx eyes stare up at my face. 

And he smiles at me. 

I find myself smiling back. 

My presence doesn't frighten him at all. Like he already knows everything about me. 

No, I can't stand this. My arms scream to hold him again and I give in to temptation. Pulling Doramu close to my chest, I take relief in feeling his heartbeat throb next to my own. 

Here I stand in the sunlight with my son in my arms, both of us as naked as nature intended us to be. I feel like I'm reborn in him, yet he has his own soul. 

_Doramu_. My hope. 

Through him, I will live on. 

*** 

..._If I had just one wish_   
_Only one demand_   
_I hope he's not like me_   
_I hope he understands_   
_That he can take this life_   
_And hold it by the hand_   
_And he can greet the world_   
_With arms wide open_... 

_With arms wide open_   
_Under the sunlight_   
_Welcome to this place_   
_I'll show you everything_   
_With arms wide open_   
_Now everything has changed_   
_I'll show you love_   
_I'll show you everything_   
_With arms wide open._   
_Wide open_... 

-- Creed, With Arms Wide Open 


End file.
